


His Palms Were Sweaty

by chipsNdeSalsa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29163348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chipsNdeSalsa/pseuds/chipsNdeSalsa
Summary: After a teammate's injury in the previous match, James Potter is called up to start as a chaser for Gryffindor in the biggest game of the year: The Quidditch Cup. This is the story of James's first match, one he'll never forget. Note: due to the lack of canon characters in this era, OCs abound, within reason. If you liked it, or disliked, tell me your thoughts.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	His Palms Were Sweaty

Through the chaotic flaps of the red and gold tent, he watched the massive crowd take their seats. Usually segregated to sections based on their house, the Hogwarts student body made a bold statement on the abnormally brisk morning of May 29th, 1972: Slytherin must not win The Cup again. Every other house stood in mixed sections whilst the Slytherin house stood, roaring 200 strong, at the far end of the pitch behind their 3 hoops. Back and forth, the two sides chanted songs that made even the loudest muggle stadiums look like an octogenarian’s bingo game.  
“We coil, we bite. Rip and tear. For nothing shall pass ALASTAIR! Fight and crush, Desmond will, that bludger’s no more than his AN-VIL,” The Slytherins chanted. As they had for the 5 years since their core team began their streak of championships.  
The coalition of Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors screamed back in desperation, “It ends today, the snake now prey, the Bissets, the best, you’ll rue the day. Once, again, one more she’ll score! Calder baits, the switch, a matador. He’s new, he’s tough, your keeper’s great horror. By his cunning good looks, you’ll know he’s a Potter!”  
But none of this entered the 12-year-old boy’s mind as it raced back and forth through his memory of the previous night. Not even the vanity of hearing his own name broke through, a feat his friends would likely mock him for later that day.  
His friends.  
The giant tree in the middle of the Hogwarts lawn.  
They all saw him go in. One of their own. And they followed.  
The kindest of them all, a monster from stories his mother told him before bed.  
For how frightened he was that night, far from the calm his captain implored them all to achieve before their match, the boy’s thoughts at this moment were not of fear. They worried for the state his friend, Remus. He felt the boy’s pain as he watched his already ragged clothes and body rip apart. The monstrous, yet sorrowful cries in the voice of both the beast and his friend.  
What’s worse is that he knew the lore. He knew the curse and its conditions. And the pieces of the puzzle he subconsciously built in his mind for nearly two years finally seemed clear. The boy’s hands shook as they held his broom, a freshly hewn Nimbus 1000 his grandfather gifted him for making the team, until a pair of shockingly cold hands gripped his cheeks from behind and his attention thrust back to the present.  
“Gone ‘round the bend, toe-rag?” the red-haired 2nd year Gryffindor japed as she took a step back with her hands behind her.  
“Those hands could freeze Aberforth’s finest Firewhisky, Evans. It’s bad enough out there as it is,” the boy with purposely windswept looking hair retorted as he turned around with the cockiest, shit eating grin he could muster.  
Lily Evans, her sleeves rolled up and stained with dirt near the elbows, gestured to the green and silver necktie around her neck as she adorned a smirk of her own and stepped closer, “What do you think? It matches these eyes you like so much, James Potter.”  
James, his smile dropping the moment his eyes dropped to see it, turned away and replied, “Were it not on your pretty neck, I’d curse it off. Did Snivellus…”  
“No, Severus did not. I nicked it when Sluggy wasn’t looking. Too busy…”  
“Was it the Minister story this time or your dumb goldfish?” James snapped as a gust of bitter wind swept past him and into the tent.  
Lily frowned and crossed her arms as she growled back, “Calling my magic dumb isn’t impressive. Especially when you can’t do it yourself.”  
James whirled around, his new broom loudly clattering to the floor, and pointed angrily at her as he nearly exploded, “Just because some mudbl…" “Say it, you mopheaded toe rag. SAY IT! Ugh… You’re just like…” Lily stepped forward and hissed, her green eyes ablaze with her own controlled anger.  
James’s heaving chest evened out as his clenched fists loosened and he took a ginger step forward. “No. And I hate it when they call you that. I don’t know why I almost said it. You’re brill…”  
“Just me? When those purists cursed that word into Gene’s spots, you rushed to save him, right? Potter, Gryffindor’s gleaming knight swooped in on his new Nimbus, beat back the punks in stupid masks, and got the girl? No. You sniggered at him and then gave him a Jelly-legs curse for good measure! Having a crush on me isn’t a good enough reason to treat me different, Potter,” Lily pointed out. As she spoke, James’s head slowly lowered until he faced the grass.  
“Evans…” James began, slowly getting up and raising his eyes to meet Lily’s, “I don’t know what to say. Maybe Gene didn’t deserve it. But you can’t tell me Snivellus and his gang…”  
Lily took a step closer too, over the broom between them. “You’re right. So have a go at them. Live the facade of a lion and have the courage to defend others, not just little Peter. Help us ‘mudbloods’. But… Until you change up here…” She explained as she jabbed a finger to his forehead, “…you will never change here,” slowly moving her finger down to the middle of his chest and turned to walk away.  
James, his cheeks flushing the same color as his robes, ruffled his hair a couple times and sighed as he picked up his broom just as his best friend skipped into the tent. His shoulder-length black hair loosely tied in a half-up, half-down style, Sirius Black sauntered up to James with a smirk second only to the latter and jested, “Finally told her you love her, Jimbo?  
Leaning on his broom, James nearly keeled over but caught himself towards the middle of its handle and straightened back up. Amidst Sirius’s fit of laughter, James stammered, “I don’t… She’s not even that…Don’t…”  
Sirius leaned in and patted James on the back as he whispered, “She had that grin when she left just now. Must’ve done something ri…”  
James slumped down onto a bench near the exit to the Quidditch Pitch, his broom still in hand, and said as he looked to the floor, “I almost did it Sirius. I don’t know why but…”  
Sirius sat down too, playfully kicking his legs out as he looked at the ceiling, “So you definitely didn’t tell her then. Which means you were a putz, again. What was it this time? But she was smiling so it can’t have been…”  
James cut him off, mumbling, “I almost called her a Mudblood, Sirius.”  
Sirius’s legs stopped swinging immediately as he sat up, lightly patted James’s shoulder, “That’s one way to her heart, Casanova. I thought we agreed Snivellus and his gang were chumps but if that’s the new groove, I guess I’l stop washing my face and hair too. Maybe get a groovy forearm tattoo. Mum would love that one. Fork my tongue. Cake my eyes with…”  
James interrupted with a playful shoulder shove, “I get it. Merlin’s saggy left one, Sirius. I don’t need you to guilt me too.”  
Sirius playfully shoved him back and stood up, offering James a hand, and noted as he heaved his best friend to his feet, “Obviously you do, if you still think of her that way. Even if you don’t mean it in a bad way. You’re never going to mean it if you’re still that stuck up there,” tapping James on the head with the back end of his wand and a dandelion sprouted like an antenna on the spot. Sirius nearly broke into a laugh but saved himself by throwing his head back to adjust his loosely tied hair.  
Not noticing the addition to his head, James picked his broom back up, adjusted the bracers of his recently laundered, red and gold quidditch uniform and walked to the edge of the tent again. As he looked back out at the stands, the roar of the dueling crowd drowning out the sound of the announcer, James wondered loudly over his shoulder, “I don’t want it to happen again. What do I do, Sirius?” James turned around fully to conclude, “Dead serious.”  
Sirius, forcing out a cough to hide a giggle, the dandelion now drooping just out of his best friend’s eye-line, hinted, “Don’t tell my mum about my funeral. She’s most like to drape me in our family’s colors. And those aren’t my colors… Second…”  
James stepped forward, the flower bobbing once again and Sirius failed to contain a cackle and put his hand out to stop James in his tracks. James, his eyes furrowed and cheeks taut, protested, “This is… Merlin’s almighty left one… I hate your name so much right now. You know what I mean, Sirius. How can I still do what we do but make it look good to her?”  
Sirius, using every ounce of restraint to not use his wand to make the dandelion even bigger, wriggled his mouth to a stern line and answered, “We’ve just gotta change our tactics. Grease-boy can stay, obviously. A good mouth wash would do him some good. And man, if anyone in this school deserved a lesson in hubris, I’d like to try Malfoy. I heard a Ravenclaw talking about Polyjuice the other day. Would’t it be great if ol’ Lucy-boy paraded through the great hall during lunch dressed as a nancy?” James and Sirius erupted into laughter, the dandelion protruding from the former’s forehead bobbing even more, making the latter laugh even louder as James still didn’t notice it.  
Sirius unbuttoned the first half of his shirt and screwed up his face with pursed lips and eyes as he strutted, all hips, towards the flapping exit to the tent and mocked pompously, “My faaathuh will hear about this. I asked for my stew to have 3 dashes of saffron, not two. The elves these days. Oh, do pass me my father… I mean feather boa, Snape. Mmmmmm” James dropped his broom again and slapped his knees and the grass beneath him in uproarious laughter as Sirius did a quick turn, spun his scarf around before wrapping it around his neck seductively, and dipped himself backward with the back of his hand touching his forehead.  
After a few minutes of them both taking turns mocking other members of Snape’s gang, and even more of Lucius Malfoy, Sirius took a seat on one of the benches again and stated, “We can talk about last night after the match.”  
Wiping his eyes, James stopped dead and hesitated for a few seconds, “Yeah… How do you think…”  
Sirius leaned back on the bench and scratched at his face a couple times, “I hope it doesn’t hurt him as much as it looks. The way it just…”  
“Tore out of him,” James completed for him, taking a seat next to Sirius.  
Sirius looked behind him to the flapping entrance to the tent and asked, “Should we tell Peter? I mean… I don’t even know why we…”  
James stopped him short, “He’s not that bad, Sirius. And not yet. Remus doesn’t know we know yet. We’ll talk to him first. It’s his choice. And Pete still hasn’t grown out of being a narc. How do you…”  
Sirius answered prematurely, “I don’t know, man. I mean, bummer for him. But isn’t he still Remus? So he likes his shepherds pie a bit more… fresh and… wooly? Big woof…:”  
James giggled and said, “Dibs on that opener. Think the library might be a good start? Maybe we can help.”  
Sirius guffawed, “Ha, yeah, Pince’ll hand over the Restricted Section keys about as fast as the Ministry gets out of South Africa.”  
James smirked and looked up to the tents ceiling and wondered, “Wouldn’t mind a nice stroll tonight in the cloak, though.”  
Sirius grinned as well as he joined James, “Sinistra did say we should appreciate the stars more. And I hear a comet’s gonna fly tonight. Nice plumage.”  
“An ace aura, it’ll have”  
“Once a millennia, it is”  
“Can’t miss it; what’d she think of us if we didn’t pay our respects in this short window of our lives?”  
James and Sirius’s mutual, internal scheming halted the moment the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team funneled into the tent, led by their captain who looked quizzically at Sirius. Sirius stood up straight, accidentally saluted once with his left before switching to his right, and said in a mocking accent, “Right-o, cap-eetan! Tip of vuh top, my lad Potter is. Nuffin better this side o’ the Thames.”  
Captain Alice Calder, the team’s star chaser, raised an eyebrow and grunted, “Get out, before I get another detention for turning you into a lamp. Potter needs to focus, not be distracted by your mutual lack of brains.”  
Sirius dropped the accent and pointed his finger half-accusing, “I’ll have you know I’ve got top marks in Charms and Potions, Call… Derma… All… Eyes… Damnit, James. Would you gimme… I’m flippin’ my wig here, mate!”  
James silently giggled and Alice snickered as she pointed to the opposite way out of the tent. Not even protesting, Sirius dropped the act and his shoulders as he waved goodbye over his shoulder and cheered sarcastically just before exiting the tent, “Whoo, go Lions… Whoo!”  
James returned to watching the crowd duel, a smile creeping across his face with each goose-bump raising gust past his face. The announcer, a Hufflepuff boy James forgot the name of but always found him surrounded by both male and female companions, had long since given up on reporting the pre-game lineups and instead joined the coalition’s chants. James craned his head to see, standing on the rim of the stadium’s top box with the professors, the boy held his microphone like one of the muggle rockstars Sirius showed him a video of and chanted, “… and so we ROAR! Streaking red across the sky, past your flanks our seeker ZOOMS! True Queen of the pitch, we nary deny, she sweeps the snitch and brings the DOOME!” James turned and smiled as he heard a poorly hidden giggle from their Seeker, who stood in the far corner as she changed into her quidditch robes.  
In the short time he’d been a reserve chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, he had never met someone more dichotomous. On the pitch, Eiriol Doome earned her namesake. She toyed with even the most veteran seekers like they were as green as James. You could name any broom maneuver and she’d do it. And then make up her own. As he sat on the bench during the last match, Doome performed two consecutive, looping Wronski feints, making her opponent crash hard into the grass on the second go around. She then looped one more time and caught the snitch upside down after grazing her fingers through the grass, picking up a lavender stem by the back of the opposing team’s posts, and caught the snitch in her other hand. She called it the Lafant Loop.  
Off the pitch and in the halls, however, Eiriol scarcely spoke. Not out of shyness, because at any mention of quidditch and its history she would light up and launch into analysis and explanations no one knew how to stop. She just didn’t find anything as interesting as Quidditch lore. And as much as James loved the sport himself, his prized possession being a signed first-edition of Quidditch Through the Ages, even he couldn’t help wishing she would let him leave for dinner when he accidentally brought up the glory days of Dangerous Dai. Doome, whose ears might have literally grown twice their size at his mention across the entire Great Hall, cast a spell that forcibly knocked aside the sizable crowd between them, and began what became a 2 hour long recitation on every. Single. One of the moves ‘Dangerous’ Dai Llewellyn performed over his career with the Catapults. And why each use was a work of pure, uniquely Welsh, genius. If she would just talk about any…  
“Evans not enough to ogle at, Potter?” Alice Calder asked as she snapped her fingers an inch from James’s nose. Rolling her eyes and tying back her hair, Alice sighed and grabbed Andrew Bisset’s blunger club and roughly tapped James’s attention back to reality. “I know men rendered dumb by bludgers more aware than you, Potter. Mind joining the huddle so we can get started?”  
Finally dressed, Eiriol Doome strode over with her helmet under one arm and a smirk, “I don’t mind, Cal. Is no one going to tell him…”  
The older of the Bisset siblings, Andrea thrust her palm out to cover Eiriol’s mouth and grunted, “Captain, we’re yours.”  
James cocked his head as the rest of the team stifled back laughter while looking at his forehead but Alice cut them off with a double tap of her broom’s handle to the ground and began her speech.  
“Five years, ladies and germs. Five too long for that cup to not be gloriously mounted above our hearth. Last year Ravenclaw nearly took it from them but they couldn’t cut it. My first year with the team, we tried to fight their fight. That dirty, come away bloody and stay in the Wing for 2 weeks fight. Andy, how many teeth have you lost to Damien in these five years?”  
Andrea Bisset, lifting her bowed head, smiled wide to show a smattering of teeth, three missing in the front, and answered, “Seven, but Pomfrey made me grow back the molars.”  
Alice tapped her broom twice again and continued, “Exactly. They bait us, and every other team at this school into fighting their way. Ravenclaw forfeited their first game this year because they ran out of backups. And I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t want to see how weak Potter here is without a wand,” nudging James in ribs.  
“We fight OUR fight today. We came in this year the worst team I’ve seen in my time here. Even the finest Honeydukes’ can offer can’t sweeten my memory of our first practice. Myself included. Eamonn, how many did I miss that first go round?”  
The only person sitting, a frail boy with tight goggles around his curly strawberry-blonde head named Xander smirked and japed, “3 for 20, ma’dear. But tha’s more tuned tuh mah own might than your lack o’ skill with those kielbasa’s. They’ll be as big as my legs iffen you don’ cu’ back on the dairy, Cal!”  
The entire Gryffindor squad roared with laughter, including Alice who sold it even more by sticking her middle and forefingers into the same glove hole and waved her hand around. After a few seconds, Alice readjusted her gloves and proceeded, “Today, we don’t give in. We play clean. We play smart. We play fast. We haven’t lost yet this year and today will be no different. Potter’s got no brains but maybe he’ll distract Alastair with that hair long enough for the rest of us to score and Doome…”  
Eiriol piped up while tightening her custom leather braces with a stylized “D” on the back, “I’ve got three left to try out, Cal. And they’re all BAAAD. Val’s radical, but he’s not leaving today without a few broken bones. I assume I’m the exception, again?”  
Alice’s smile curled as she nodded, “Keep him distracted and winded while Baldwin and I rack up the score.” After bumping fists with Rob Baldwin, the only 7th year on the team , she concluded, “Go in for the kill when we get 120. Get in here.” The Bisset siblings hoisted Eamonn Ó Deoradháin on their shoulders as they squeezed their huddle tighter and Alice led their chant, the rest repeating after her  
“With courage we take flight.”  
“With pride we take the cup back.  
“Till our breath ends our fight.”  
“We never stop our attack.”  
“Do we dare!”  
“Till we’ve nothing left to spare!” the Gryffindor team answers in unison.  
“Do we dare?”  
“Till we’re in their nightmares!”  
“Show me, my pride,” Alice Calder whispers to them.  
All at once, loud enough to silence the crowd beyond, the Gryffindor squad roared with all their might and mounted their brooms. Alice did so with a running start. The Bissets high-fived and mounted theirs after throwing Eamonn onto his already floating broom. Hesitating for a moment, his grip on his broom loose, felt Eiriol slap his back and say as she exited the tent with him, “Get us 60 and I’ll tell Lily you’re aces.”  
James smirked, “Then I’ll get 70, E, “ and zoomed into the air. Taking in the crisp air like ambrosia, James relished in the simple feeling of the his hair going wild with the wind. He noticed something off about the new feeling tugging back on his forehead but he didn’t realize everyone’s laughter, especially the Slytherin side’s, until midway through the announcer’s pre-match roll call for the Gryffindor side.  
“Calder, Bisset, Bisset, Baldy… Ah… Ah… sheesh, old nag… Ah, bollo… I said… I’m…” James quickly drifted right to get a look and just caught Professor McGonagall controlling a levitating newspaper smacking the male announcer repeatedly. The crowd laughed and when she finally dispelled the paper, the boy continued, “Apologies Professor… and to my muvvah for the language. Ahem… on the Gryffindor side, we’ve got a side for the ages. Not a loss to be found this season, they’ve got Calder, Bisset, Bisset, Bal… Baldwin, Doome and Po… Merlin’s blooming left… Is that a dandelion?”  
James felt the eyes of nearly 600 people fixate on him and he finally looked up and saw, flapping in the wind and flopping back down with his hair as he came to a stop was a thin-stemmed, yellow petaled dandelion. James couldn’t help but laugh as he remembered the loving tap Sirius game him and urged his broom towards the Gryffindor side’s goal posts. Seated amongst a cacophony of red and gold was his best friend, the most flamboyant of them all. Naked save for his glittering gold boxers, Sirius was covered in equally gleaming red paint and yelled louder than them all. James smirked and as he urged his broom into a jarringly quick drift around the curved edge of the stadium’s seating, slapping the hand of his best friend midway, and pulled to a stop right behind the right hoop.  
“Mind a hand, Evans?” James yelled over the crowd  
Her green eyes beaming at him, Lily chuckled as she pointed her wand at his forehead and whispered a general counter-curse unheard amidst the noisy coalition crowd. Feeling the dandelion pop from existence, James blushed and smirked even wider as he zoomed away to join his teammates at the center of the stadium, hovering over the Quidditch referee, Madame Hooch.  
The two captains of Gryffindor and Slytherin shook hands, the latter wincing at the famous grip of Alice Calder. Not a moment after they retook their positions in a circle over Madame Hooch, the referee threw the Quaffle high into the air and James shot towards it with his left arm hyperextended.  
Ten metres.  
Five metres.  
Three metres.  
One.  
The ball reached its apex as his middle finger just scraped the ball before the black-eyed Slytherin Captain, Emma Vanity, snatched it and sped towards the Gryffindor hoops. James skid his broom through the air and hair-pin turned around to chase after her. But before he even got halfway to her, his captain punched the ball out while chasing her parallel and upside down. James smirked and held his hand out as he turned again, this time towards the Slytherin hoops. Calder didn’t even glance at him before speeding past and after passing it back and forth between herself and Baldwin, she looped around the hoops and performed a stellar assist to the latter, who punched it into the right hoop just before the Slytherin Keeper, Martyn Alastair, could double back from following Calder.  
James sighed and thought, “Alright, I’ll earn it then,” as play resumed and the Slytherins slowly made their way to midfield. He spent the next three possessions following the formations of the Slytherin’s famous offense and counter attack. On the fourth consecutive possession where neither team scored, he finally got his first hint and pounced. When Alastair threw the ball into play, they all hesitated for a moment before getting into formation while Vanity gave a slight, but noticeable sign by touching her right bracer in a certain fashion. During the first two possessions, James saw her tap twice and slide forward with three fingers and they formed a V with the quaffle holder behind two guards. When they counterattacked however, as they did on the last possession he watched, she switched arms to signal them, via three slides and a fist bump to the side of her bracer, to instead spread out and prepare for a flurry of passes: First to left, then all the way right, then back to left, and then middle again for an attempt to score by Vanity herself.  
James kept up his pace and pressure defensively, never touching the quaffle himself on offense until he noticed a signal from his own captain during their own counterattack, a back scratch with an open hand facing down and her thumb facing right, telling him to break right and loop underneath to decoy beyond midfield and then prepare for a pass to score. But James didn’t want that. He wanted to test his theory. So he did as told, up to the moment of the assist from Baldwin. The lanky seventh year faked an attempt to score with his off hand and threw the ball under his own arm to James. James, doing his best to sell his own fake to his teammates, looped the hoops twice quickly and put everything he had behind a throw directly at the back of the crossing Vanity as she guarded Calder.  
James winced as he realized he turned the quaffle into a bludger and the impact nearly sent the girl off her broom. After a diving catch from their other star chaser, a burly, blonde 6th year named Joe Rayknolls, James looked for the signal he wanted as Rayknolls passed the ball to Vanity as she came around the other side of the goal posts with a hand nursing her side. Vanity crossed over to the left and then looped under Rayknolls to take her place in the middle and gave James just what he wanted: three slides and fist bump to the forearm.  
James waved down Calder and Baldwin and gave them the signal they both normally gave to him when they wanted the others to follow their lead: two taps with a balled right on the back of the neck. Calder scratched the middle of her chest with her thumb pointing up, signaling that he has one chance to show up. When James was still just a reserve player, he saw her give this signal to the person he replaced due to injury, Terence Scott, before he collided into a post he didn’t see trying to decipher the signal. A shame, Calder said, that Terence was the only one on the team with less brains than James himself. Time to prove her wrong, in either direction.  
James took a deep, calming breath, relished in the momentary rush of his hair going wild as he accelerated through the wind and sleet, and took his chance. Just as the ball soared over Vanity’s head to go from Rayknolls to their youngest player, a second-year chaser named Wayne Rogers whose hair resembled a dried paintbrush with dirty yellow paint at the tip, James shot forward like a dart and kicked the ball at a 45 degree angle up right as Baldwin crossed midfield to catch it. James egged his broom on even more as the Slytherins regrouped behind him, laughing to himself at the loud, cursing outburst from the poor second year, and zoomed ahead of everyone. Baldwin smiled as well and lofted an easy pass from behind the posts for James to catch and throw with the same hand in one fluid motion through the middle hoop. Alastair didn’t stand a chance.  
Calder soared towards him as they prepared their defense again and yelled as she passed him, “A Troll in History of Magic, indeed.” Before James could fire back, the Slytherins mounted a quick formation and he focused in again to get all of their signs. Over the course of the next 12 possessions, James scored 6 more times and he found nearly all of the signs for their formations, even the ones given by the much more subtle Alastair. One defensive scheme, set up by a simple broom maneuver that looked a routine keeper tactic to guard every post, James found to be a signal for a zone-defense with a man-to-man breakdown the moment the ball crossed midfield. James took advantage of this by drafting off the back of Calder as she held the ball and then zooming in a random direction to pull the defense off her, then zooming back down to catch a pass near the ground. It worked twice, both times with an assist to Baldwin as he zoomed out from behind the hoops.  
After nearly half an hour of play, Gryffindor led Slytherin 110 to 20, both of Slytherin’s goals the result of a foul by the Bissets’ notoriously liberal interpretation of proper Beater etiquette. James knew they wouldn’t follow Calder’s plan, but it hadn’t led them astray yet. All the while, the announcer, whose name James finally remembered to be Malcolm Sitwell, flamboyantly gave the show of his career in what likely went down as the best play-by-play in the long and storied history of Hogwarts Quidditch. Before they scored their 11th goal, James took some time to stay off the ball and focus on making sure he had all their signs and formations memorized and laughed as he listened to Sitwell perform.  
“Look at her go. What a beautiful sight today in this stadium. Calder’s taken the brunt of hazing due to her hand size but my oh my does she have wicked ball control. To Baldwin, back to… Pilfered by that wretch Vani… Oh that’s a shave you’ll like never to see again, at the hands of Andrea Bisset no less. I’d pay a galleon to let her shave me with those… And its back across the mid with Calder. Baldwin, back to Calder. Underhand to Baldwin. Potter’s on interference, the kid can fly. 7 goals for the first game off reserve, a recent riser after the nasty crash by Scotty T. Looping back around the posts is Calder, a nice time killer she is. Oh look at that, a toss up and over a zooming Desmond. She’s nearly… Oooh, that’s a nasty bat he’s got. Nearly broke her arm with that bludger. But she’s got the pass off, Baldwin’s got a clear lane to… No he fakes a pass again, this time behind the back to a zooming… SHE SCORES. MY DEAR DEAR GIRL. Halfway through a loop up and over the posts, that beautiful hair in the…Ahem. A show of great prowess by one of the greats Gryffindor will ever see.”  
James refocused on the state of the game, satisfied with his strategy. Before he could signal for his teammates, including the Bisset’s this time, to follow him in, Calder called for time, sweat pooling around her face and holding her right hand close to her leg. Almost limp. As Hooch approved the call and examined her arm, Calder stared daggers into James as he landed and accepted some water from a floating Eamonn. When the referee magically summoned a brace and wrap that wound itself around her arm, Alice turned away and winced as she flexed it, “What’s the play gonna be, Mophead?”  
James looked around at the rest of team, even looked around to see if anyone else was who she meant, before Eamonn lightly tapped i the head with his foot and japed, “She means you, you rabid bunny. Draw it up.”  
James stepped forward and whispered to his captain, “I don’t think I…”  
Alice rounded on him, Andrew Bisset’s club in her hands and said, “Do I have to break my other arm too for you to take your shot, Potter? Huh? Merlin’s salty bollocks…” She looked at the rest of her team, nodding in apology to the still present Madame Hooch, who simply giggled discretely, and continued, “Haha, kid’s got the confidence of pride king when it comes to women but craven as the bastard brother when it’s time to… Look, you proved you’re not a muppet. Seven in a game isn’t bad for a first time out. And those signs… I’ve played against that bird Vanity six years now and I never got them. Not even a game and you’ve got them all? Call the play or my bad arm is gonna turn your head into a bludger. Mind you, Azkaban ain’t too nice this time of year, so you know I’m not takin’ the piss.”  
James held up his hands and backed away until he bumped into a looming Baldwin, whose closed-mouth smile unnerved him as it always did, and moved back to the middle of their huddle. Madame Hooch chimed in before he could start, “You’ve got 3 minutes left, Calder. Let’s hope Doome here can get you off my pitch and into the Wing soon or I’m calling for a reserve player.”  
Both James and Calder nodded and the latter gestured rudely for him to start. James, ruffling his hair with the wind, turned to where he knew Sirius to be sitting and smirked as he returned his gaze to Calder and conceded, “Alright, I’ll save the ministry the misfortune of trying to capture you alive, Alice. First off, E, how quick can you snatch it up after Baldy gets us to 120?”  
Eiriol cackled against the weight of her broom and rebutted, “Val might as well be confunded. Why?”  
James nodded and answered with another question, “In the history of this rad sport, has a chaser ever scored at the exact same time a seeker caught the snitch to win it?”  
Eiriol’s smirk widened even more as she replied, “Negative, Mops. The great Dangerous Dai tried but… I’ll leave that for when we don’t have a minute and 13 seconds left.”  
Out of view, Madame Hooch giggled again as she looked down at her silver timepiece.  
James turned to the Bissets and said plainly, “Distract their two and keep them on our side of the pitch. I don’t want a single bludger crossing the midline.”  
Andrea and Andrew knocked their clubs together and nodded as they look to Calder and Baldwin for the last piece.  
James raised his voice a little to hear it just over the crowd, “Baldy, you’re gonna fake out Rodge and Vanity with a spiral down a post, where I’m gonna fake a pass to you. Sell it hard that you’re trying to hide the ball from them. In your cloak even. Alice, can you still throw with that arm?”  
Alice Calder immediately bashes James on his right shoulder, only to crumble a little from the pain shooting through her entire forearm. The entire Gryffindor squad laughs as James finishes, “I’m gonna hand the Quaffle off to you behind my back as soon as I fake to Baldwin. Keep it behind your back out of view from the snakes. Lucky our robes are drenched, so the quaffle blends in a bit. Keep it until I come off circling slide and start my way up. You hit me, I get it to Baldy as he comes soaring up. Baldy dunks it like Kareem. E snags the snitch at the same time. E, could you coax the snitch to pass me as I do my circle along the grass?”  
Eiriol raises an eyebrow at him, “Aye, but remember: you can’t touch it or she’s reset. That’s a…”  
James waves her down and explains, “I’ve got the first edition, E. As much as I’d like the shot, I won’t even come within a metre of it. I’m gonna make it look like I handed the quaffle off to you as we pass. Of course, you can’t touch the quaffle, I want them to think we’re…”  
Madame Hooch loudly coughs and announces, “Take your places to resume play. Ms. Doome, you may resume you’re search for the snitch.”  
James adds before they take their places, “For the books, Calder.”  
Calder smiles wide and counters, “For the plaque wall.”

“A nice break from the action, wouldn’t you say, Professor?”  
Minerva McGonagall stared jagged, rusted Sgian-dubh into Malcom Sitwell’s eyes as he dribbled some water down his front and choked, just putting his hand over the magically amplifying microphone in front of his face.  
Malcom, using a Hot Air Charm to dry himself off, stammered as he resumed his calling of the game, “We… Let’s just… Okay, Hooch launches the Quaffle back up and resumes the game. Potter’s there first, some of the best flying we’ve seen this decade mind! He passes to Baldwin, back to Potter. Over to Calder… She loops the beater Desmo… And passes back to Potter. He’s streaking sideways by us now, maybe gimme a five… Guess not. Not a rad move, denying a fellow a high one. Bloke’s gotta…”  
Feeling the growing, lava-hot intensity of McGonagall permeate through the windchill, Malcom continues on task, “A great steal by Vanity. She’s across the mid, passes to the second year Rodgie-Dodgy Rogers. He swings wide around the post for a set-up for… And it’s taken by Potter yet again. He’s two away from the steals record in a match for Gryffindor. Long ways from the record set by the heartthrob and madman himself, Winky Crockett, though. Learned that one from the Gryffindor Seeker Doome last year. Poor girl nearly… Speaking of which, she’s… My… She’s gone and followed the snitch just past the governor’s box. Kick old man Malf…”  
Malcom looks down to see his microphone has vanished and Minerva McGonagall has turned on her own as she aggressively points at him and then the exit to the announcer’s box twice.  
“Apologies to the Hogwarts governors. Mr. Sitwell will have detention with me for the remainder of the year. So… Ah, yes. Potter’s leading the brave lions across the mid, passes to a rising Baldwin as he dives to coast the grass. A risky take… What’s this… No… Ms. Calder has the quaffle and is evading in a wide loop around the mid… She speeds forward… Passes it to a low flying Potter… My word! Potter watch where you’re… Boy nearly collides with his own… Potter you know she can’t… I daresay, this is risky play… Potter passes to Calder she speeds around the posts and… passes it back down to Potter as he finishes another circle in the… he passes up to Baldwin as he rises and… Score to Gryffindor! That makes it… What’s… Well I’ve never… Madame Hooch to confirm… Doome was just gliding her hands in a puddle from the rain… she can’t have… Oh my… She’s got it. A left handed grab of the snitch at the exact… Yes, my Omnoculars have confirmed it. She caught the snitch at the exact same time as Baldwin shoved the quaffle through the middle hoop. Stellar play all…”  
Minerva McGonagall’s announcing faded away as the entire coalition side of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs erupted into thunderous applause and cheers. As James flew over to give Eiriol Doome an airborne hug, Alice Calder and Rob Baldwin nearly took each other off their brooms as they collided near the middle Slytherin side post. Hovering near midfield, James laughed as he saw Baldwin doing a victory lap of high fives from the coalition’s side and a reckless Sirius Black jumped onto the chaser’s broom and began kissing him on top of his bald head. Jumping from broom to broom, even taking a brief, forceful step off a sulking Alastair’s broom as he made his way to the ground, Sirius finally made it to Alice Calder’s broom and gave her a passionate kiss on the cheek as they made their way down to grassy midfield. James and the rest of the Gryffindor team joined them as Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall descended and walked alongside a just landing Madame Hooch.  
Sirius yelled over the crowd’s celebrations as he and James embraced and jumped up and down, “You should have seen her, James. Cheered louder than any of us when you curve-balled that one around both Alastair and Desmond’s heads. Truly radical! She’s gonna…”  
The magically magnified, booming voice of Albus Dumbledore cut him off as he stepped forward and into the huddled Gryffindor team and Sirius, “Truly, a game for the ages! A score and catch in the same moment, a thing of beauty. Congratulations Professor McGonagall, Captain Alice Calder, and your wondrous quidditch team. With a score of 270 to 20, I gladly award this years Hogwarts Quidditch Championship Cup to Gryffindor and 200 points toward the House Cup! Congratulations, all!” With a flourish and flick of his long wand, James saw Albus conjure a large, gleaming silver chalice into their waiting hands. On a count to three begun by their hovering keeper, Eamonn Ó Deoradháin, the Gryffindor quidditch team hoisted their first of many Quidditch Cups.

**Author's Note:**

> You ever have one of those ideas that makes you want to keep going, even if it means making what as supposed to be a 13 page exercise on telling a fast-paced sports story into a 26 pager? That happened here. Every time I though I was done, I had a new idea to add in.
> 
> Some notes about this fic:
> 
> 1) I created a few characters on the spot for this story because even though, for some reason, there is a detailed CANON plaque of Slytherin captains dating back to the 18th century, there is no such list for the Marauder era. So I made a few of my own, which I probably won't use again because this is just a one-shot.
> 
> 2) This is the beginning of a series of one-shots I have planned and outlined to tell more stories set in the Harry Potter universe. Ones I believe don't deviate from the canon, simply adding to it. If you like stories like this, follow me on here for more.
> 
> 3) If you like this style of writing, I am currently also working on a Tom Riddle fic called The Boy He Failed (2-7 books already posted) and a Teddy Lupin book called Lunam Absconsa.
> 
> 4) If you enjoyed, or didn't, please leave a review! The worst feedback a writer can get is none at all. I want to get better and learn more for projects I can actually get paid for. Thanks for reading!


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